Entrusted to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy #2) - Donna Fletcher Page 0,4

abandoned her as most dog mums do with the weak ones of the litter. Instinct tells them they won’t survive and to them it’s the kindest thing to do.”

“But you thought differently.”

“Aye, I did, and she’s grown into a fine dog and is family now.”

Silence followed and Purity didn’t mind, her thoughts straying to how different Arran appeared. He’d never been one to remain quiet too long and rarely had he been seen without a smile. Raven had told her how Arran never had failed to make her smile or cheer her when she needed it. He wore a smile no more and looked as if he could use some cheering. Once he reached home and he was among family again, surely that would change.

Purity stopped by a clump of overgrown bushes and pushed them aside. “My home.”

Arran followed, pushing the bushes farther apart to fit through and stopped when he saw the stone home built into the side of the sizeable hill, the roof solid turf, and smoke drifting out of the hole in it. A good-sized garden sat to the side of the cottage, wild onion and cabbage prevalent while other plants he didn’t recognize.

A stack of cut wood sat next to the front door and Arran’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. “You live alone?”

“I have the animals,” Purity said.

He cast a hasty glance around. “No man to protect you?”

“No, visitors are rare to these parts of the woods.”

“Yet three men were here today and one ran off,” he reminded and let his hand ease off his sword.

“That was strange, though I have no concern of Quiver returning. He was far too full of fear. It’s a lovely autumn day. Why don’t you sit under the tree?” She gave a nod to a large oak, its trunk so thick it had to be ancient and its branches spread out creating a fine canopy. “I’ll bring you food and drink.”

He gave a nod and she disappeared into the house.

Arran walked toward the tree, keeping watch on the dog and cat, not so much the dog since she found herself a sunny spot, which probably wouldn’t last long, and stretched out. The cat, however, paced not far from him as if he waited to see what Arran would do. Once he settled under the tree, his back against the trunk, the cat wandered off.

He looked toward the cottage. The woman had lovely, soft features, not a beauty, but there was something about her face that enticed. Or perhaps it was that she smiled with ease or was it that she found reason to smile even after she’d been attacked and almost abducted?

He had once smiled often, but then there had been things to smile about, not anymore. The evil he had seen, and had been forced to do to survive, had robbed him of the person he had once been. A person who was now gone forever.

Arran had been surprised when the woman hadn’t shivered in fear or collapsed against him after she’d been attacked. And he had taken note of the way her soft green eyes had gone to both animals after it was over, assuring herself they hadn’t been harmed. She had the loveliest hair he’d ever seen. Various gold-colored strands ran through her lustrous brown hair making it appear as radiant as the sun and it hung in a braid down to the middle of her back. A few strands had fallen loose and he had almost reached out to tuck one or two behind her ear, but had stopped himself. It had been a gesture that would have come easily to him in the past, but had vanished with time. That it had returned had startled him. He wasn’t that foolish man anymore and he didn’t want to be.

He’d ask her more about these parts, eat and drink as he did, then be on his way.

He inhaled the quiet of the woods. Five years ago he wouldn’t have favored the quiet. He had enjoyed daily life with his family and clan, talking with his da and brother Royden, sharing an enjoyable poke with a willing woman, chastising his sister Raven for sneaking around and seeing and hearing things that weren’t proper for her ten and five years. And then there were the endless times spent on the practice field.

Now after having known nothing but never-ending battles for the last five years, the quiet of the woods was a welcoming treat. The gentle autumn